


Linked

by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bonding, Gen, Padawan, Platonic Relationships, Teaching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7069093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12/pseuds/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are few bonds stronger than that of a Master and their apprentice. It is the foundation of the Jedi Order where learning never truly ends. But what goes in to making this bond? What are the moments that can define the connection between them? </p>
<p>An exploration of several pairs of Masters and apprentices, form Yoda and Dooku to Anakin and Ahsoka.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Question: Anakin and Ahsoka

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Hope you enjoy the story, I'd love to know what you think! First up is Anakin and Ahsoka!

“So, how did you end up as Master Kenobi’s Padawan?” Ahsoka walked in step beside Anakin as they traversed the long halls of the temple. After their talk, he seemed more inclined to being open with his Padawan. They had been together close to a week, and even now she was feeling his sarcasm rub off on her, a thing she noticed was most active when they spent time with his old master. 

“It’s a long story.” His tone was flat, he didn’t want to talk and she knew it. But she wanted to know. She sighed, and let out a long breath. She supposed, since he had made such an effort not to mention it, that he hadn’t been chosen in the ordinary way. Other apprentices, older than here, fought in tournaments or held meetings with potential masters in order to find a suitable fit or decide that the way of the Padawan was not for them. She had assumed Anakin had done the same, although now she had reason to believe otherwise. 

“Do you think Master Kenobi would talk about it? I’m sure I could-“ But he cut her off, stopping to look at her. 

“Don’t ask Obi-Wan about it, Ahsoka.” He stared at her, and she was surprised to see a fair amount of pain in his expression. Grief. A hint of anger. “I’ll tell you when we get to the meditation room.”

Even though initiates were trained from a very young age to meditate frequently, it was never something Ahsoka considered her strong suit. And, from what she had been told of Anakin, it wasn’t his either. She wrinkled her nose, but didn’t complain, realizing she had already pushed him quite a bit for the day. 

When they arrived at the Room of a Thousand Fountains, it was mostly empty. However, ironically seated at the center of the room; his bare feet pressed together as he sat, eyes closed, on a patch of grass, was Obi-Wan. He didn’t open his eyes when they came in, but Anakin whispered to her, “He knows we’re here.” And she supposed they had communicated with the force. “Would you like to sit with him?”

She thought she would rather hear the story, but nodded obligingly, sitting next to Anakin, across from the straight-backed, eyes closed Jedi Master who only slowly blinked when they sat down. “It is good to see you meditating, Anakin. I rather thought you didn’t care for it.” But he smiled at her master’s eye roll. “Don’t listen to him, Ahsoka, meditation is a core Jedi practice. It’s necessary for self-discipline, which is necessary for the trials you will take to become a knight.” 

“Are the trials difficult, Master Kenobi?” she felt, through their strengthening connection, a dip in Anakin’s force signature. A flash of something; surprise, maybe anxiety. 

“Ahsoka...”Obi-Wan waved his hand and stopped Anakin’s voice. 

“It’s alright, Anakin. I will answer her question.” He looked pointedly down at Ahsoka, his pose relaxing from his stiff stance. She realized she had wondered right into the very question Anakin had told her not to ask, and she looked at him apologetic. But his eyes were cast downward, a hard expression on his face; and Obi-Wan was beginning to talk. 

“I never participated in the formal trials, Ahsoka. My knighting was rather unconventional, I’m afraid.” He too had a flash o some strong emotion. No anger like her master, simply grief, perhaps resilience. “Shortly after my master, Qui-Gon Jinn, and I found Anakin on Tatooine, we returned to Naboo to fight against the Trade Federation.”

She nodded, and noticed Anakin’s gloved metal hand tearing up clumps of grass, twisting them through the thin fingers and tearing them up at the roots. Obi-Wan gave him a pointed look, but said nothing, though she could feel a tenuous vibration through the force. She was trying, it was difficult, but she was trying to get more in tune with her force connection. There seemed to be so much to learn. 

“Qui-Gon and I were confronted by a Sith Lord, Darth Maul. My Master was killed, and I had to fight him. I was knighted as a result of winning that fight-“

“You killed a Sith?” She blurted out, and Anakin turned hard to stare at her. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but Obi-Wan gave her a gentle smile. She could feel her face burning; Obi-Wan’s master had died, in violation of his Jedi training, he had been forced to kill another being. It was not something to be celebrating, but she couldn’t help but be impressed. Obi-Wan always seemed so…passive.

“Yes.” Obi-Wan nodded. “Darth Maul was defeated. Before he died, I promised Qui-Gon I would train Anakin as my Padawan; he was meant to be Qui-Gon’s apprentice, you see. When that was obviously no longer possible, I trained him instead.” She looked at her master, who was again staring at the grass, and marveled for a moment. She knew what they whispered about Anakin; that he was supposedly the chosen one, meant to bring balance to the force. But she hadn’t known about Qui-Gon Jinn, that he had lost his first master, that he and Obi-Wan, a brand new Knight, had been basically thrown together. They seemed so close.

“I’m sorry, Master Kenobi. I didn’t know.” She bowed her head in a show of respect, but she could feel no anger from him.   
“It’s quite alright, Ahsoka. As Jedi, we must learn to let our past go, let it become part of the force. To hold on to anger or resentment would only weaken us.”

“Obi-Wan’s right, Ahsoka. I’m sorry for not answering your question earlier.” 

The rest of the afternoon was spent in silence, meditating in a triad until Obi-Wan had to leave for a council meeting and she and Anakin were left alone. Though she tried to focus, Obi-Wan’s words wouldn’t leave her. They filled her mind, that all Jedi must learn to let go of anger, of resentment; but the image that filled her was of her own Master and the flicker of both she had seen in his eyes. What did it mean? 

And, if he had gone through all that. Leaving his past life on Tatooine, losing his would-be Master, being apprenticed to a man he barely knew: was it bad that he still felt angry?

She opened her eyes right as she saw him close his; her questions remaining unanswered.


	2. Dream: Obi-Wan and Anakin

He wasn't quite sure what to do now. He had never considered himself particularly gifted with children. Even the small children in the temple, whose behavior was mostly contained, regulated, and under control; he had never quite known what to say to them. He had thought that one day he might take a Padawan, but Padawan's were usually thirteen, not nine years old. And you had met them well before the time came for the pair of you to begin doing things together. Before you were sharing an apartment. Before you were sitting in the cafeteria, staring at each other over bowls of porridge and fruit.

This small blonde boy was watching him with raised eyebrows, and for not the first time that morning, he longed for some of Qui-Gon's easy graces of communication with other beings. He had been told many times that he had the voice, mind, and demeanor for diplomacy, and his former master had often left negotiations up to him on planets while he saw to other parts of the missions. But children were not diplomats, and this child had been raised entirely away from all of the teachings that Obi-Wan had spent his life dedicated to. So, alas, they sat in silence even longer, and he couldn't think of a single word to say.

"I had a dream last night," it was an obscure topic of conversation, but he seized on it, nodding as Anakin continued, stirring his porridge absentmindedly. "About Qui-Gon."

Obi-Wan swallowed too quickly, covering it with a small cough. Anakin recoiled form him slightly, and Obi-Wan realized he might have thought he was mad. "What was it about?" He tried to sound inviting, but it wasn't a tone that came easy for him. He doubted that Anakin's dream would amount to much, it was more than likely a byproduct of the stress of returning from Naboo and the recent bustle of Qui-Gon's funeral. But still, it was better than the impenetrable silence that usually settled between them.

"It was about the three of us, actually." He said, his words were cautious. Obi-Wan had realized several days ago, when Anakin had torn a set of his new robes, not realizing exactly how long they would be, that he was very worried about upsetting his new master. Not, Obi-Wan was certain, because eh particularly cared whether or not Obi-Wan was upset, but because of his past as a slave. To upset an authority figure could mean a condemnation, pain, misery, something to clearly avoid. Obi-Wan had not been angry, he had vowed silently to himself that he would never allow himself to get that angry at Anakin. He never would want the boy to be afraid of him. He had never been afraid of Qui-Gon, respected him, yes, but fear was not part of that equation.

"Really?" Obi-Wan cut part of his fruit open with his spoon as Anakin nodded. "What was it?"

"We were just talking." Anakin seemed relieved that Obi-Wan was interested, and the man wondered vaguely if something had been bothering him that morning. He had been even more quiet than normal before they had come down to start the day. "I couldn't see him, not really, only hear him. I could feel him though, near me. Does that make sense?"

Obi-wan nodded carefully, starting to think their might be more to this dream after all. "We talked about my being a Jedi. He said I could be strong and powerful, but that I had to be careful and listen to you and the council. He said you would train me to be a great Jedi." Obi-Wan swallowed, lost for words again, listening to the story that Anakin was telling with greater ease now. "He showed me some things the force could do, he had me move things, run, leap, tumble. It was amazing!" He was beaming, and Obi-Wan gae him a half smile, wondering that if Qui-Gon had manifested himself to the boy, why he would bother with such trivial things.

"After that we just talked. About my mother. About the Sith that you killed, Master." It was the first time that day that Anakin had addressed him as such. It still felt so odd to Obi-Wan to hear it. Most knights were full Jedi for two to three years before taking an apprentice, his transition period had been hours, where he watched Qui-Gon die to when Master Yoda removed his Padawan braid and promoted him to knight and he had received Anakin as his Padawan. "And about you."

Anakin blushed a little, clearly nervous, again, that Obi-Wan would be mad. "What did he say"

"Well, he told me about you. How powerful you were, even though he said you didn't know it." True to character, Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows in doubt. He had never felt that he was anything above that of an ordinary Jedi, in fact, he could name several that excelled at things he found himself having to pay more attention to. But since they had returned to the temple, he had noticed a change in the Jedi around him. He had heard their whispers. They had names for him, "Sith-Killer" was a common one that he had heard follow him down corridors or in the meditation room. He had been acknowledged by Masters that had practically ignored his existence for the past 20 years, and even two council members had approached him about his fight with the Sith. It made him uneasy, he was being labeled beyond his own control, and the hallmarked rage he had felt when initially fighting Darth Maul was not something he wished to be glorified by the other Jedi. "He also said he hope we could be close."

"I hope that as well, Anakin." And he had. His close bond with Qui-Gon had been incredibly important to him, not something he wanted to relinquish, but that had been severed from him. He wanted the same type of bond with Anakin, despite how rocky their beginnings had been. The boy nodded, and, dropping his gaze, waited a moment before speaking.

"He also said you were hard to talk to." Obi-wan blinked slowly, trying to swallow that piece of fruit that now seemed too large for his throat. His own master had always had a way of pointing out the flaws he didn't want to see, or simply hadn't noticed. This however, was one he was fully aware of. "Sorry, Master Obi-Wan, I didn't mean to upset you."

"You haven't, Anakin." He sighed, no longer wanting to eat the rest of his breakfast, but he did finish the last of his water before speaking again. "I'm supposed to learn from you as well in our time spent together." Anakin nodded, his disinterest in his food mirroring Obi-Wan's. The older man stood, and Anakin followed, the two of them walking down the hallway in presumed silence again. "I want you to be able to speak with me, Anakin. I apologize if I am hard to talk to sometimes, I'll work on it."

"He said something else, Master." Anakin looked back up at him, whipping his short braid to the side of his head. Obi-Wan waited expectantly, stopping outside of the door where Anakin was going to one of his first temple lessons. "That when you did talk, I should always listen since you know what you're talking about. He even said you could be funny." Anakin smiled at him, and Obi-Wan recognized the joke behind his words. The first one exchanged between them. He returned it, opening the door for Anakin to walk inside with another group of Padawans, seated in a meditation circle around Master Cin Drallig. The boy stepped away from, turning to leave.

"Anakin." He called, and the boy turned back, his eyes questioning, slightly nervous. "May the force be with you." He wasn't leaving on some long journey, some extended period of time; it was simply a class. But Obi-Wan felt that something was needed to cement what was now a small connection between them.

"And with you, Master." And with a small smile, the boy turned and disappeared.


	3. Power: Dooku and Yoda

"I don't understand, Master Yoda, why I can't go and receive my actual lightsaber yet. I tire of using these training sabers." Dooku's new Padawan braid bounced against the back of his head. The short saber in his hand wasn't properly weighted, and with his first mission coming up, he didn't want to be caught off guard by some unsuspecting enemy.

"Patience you must have, Dooku, if to succeed you are." His master's voice was laced with mirth, but to him this was far from amusing. The other students at the temple had been amazed, jealous, and flattering when Yoda had taken him as an apprentice. He had expected Thame Cerulian to take him, he had felt the man's eyes watching him in training, had spoken with him on various occasions, but when the request had come from Yoda, he could not refuse. He was top in his classes in everything: strength through the living force, lightsaber fighting, diplomacy, speech, languages…there was nothing he couldn't do, and he supposed that the Grand Master of the temple had finally taken notice. "More important things, there are to a Jedi, than a lightsaber."

Dooku felt like sighing, but Yoda would hear him. He settled for rolling his eyes, moving to walk in pace with the small green master who had taken to floating in a chair so as to keep pace with his apprentice. "I know, Master." Other Jedi nodded at them as they passed through, a girl Dooku knew, Jocasta Nu, peering around her new master as he walked by. He smiled at her, she was one of the few people he would consider a friend. She was the only one he knew of who had come close to defeating him in an argument. She smiled back, curling her lips upwards before Dooku felt a sharp stab in his shoulder.

"Pay attention, you must." He rubbed his arm where Yoda's gimer stick had poked him, and he couldn't help the small surge of anger he felt before he looked into his master's eyes and saw the humor beneath them. It was a short walk, or float in Yoda's case, to their new quarters. Dooku knew that the council members had nice apartments, all Jedi apartments were nice, but this was huge. Especially considering the only occupant for forty years was a being who barely came up to Dooku's knees.

"Your room, that is." He gestured with his stick, and Dooku walked into his room. The walls were bare, the bed covered with plain white sheets and pillows, and a beige comforter the exact color of his tunic. He let out a harsh breath, a half-laugh at the complete lack of a color palette. He thought about what the room could look like though, they hadn't been allowed to decorate their quarters as younglings, but he doubted Yoda would protest too much if he wanted to put a Holo-shelf in to do some late night reading. Jocasta could help with that, she was training to be the new archival librarian of the temple.

"Padawan!" He heard Yoda's gruff voice from the living area, and he returned to see his new master seated on one of the round meditation chairs that decorated dark corners of the temple. "Sit." He gestured at an identical chair across from him, which Dooku sat upon, cross legged. His new master simply looked him, seeming to be evaluating him from the top down.

"Troubled, are you?" One of his three-fingered hands went to stroke his chin, and Dooku lifted his eyebrows. Other than the minor annoyance of not getting a lightsaber, he wouldn't consider himself troubled.

"No, Master. I apologize if it seems that way." He kept his voice measured. In their years of diplomatic practice, he had managed what none of the others younglings had, his voice and eyes were expressionless as his new master's eyes bored into him. Unless he could feel so acutely through the force, he would not be able to know Dooku's feelings as he could with others. Their eyes stayed linked together for another moment before Yoda's large green eyes closed.

"Meditate, we shall. Reflect on the day's developments, we should." Meditation was second nature to a Jedi, Dooku was no exception. But again, he could feel his annoyance that his new master, when he could be learning to spar with a master, concentrate his force energy even more than he could, exploring the temple with his other friends who had gotten masters, he would be sitting doing this for who knew how long. He obliged though, determined to show that he was indeed the best of the best the Order would ever have to offer. He closed his eyes, trying to release his feelings.

And then he felt it. The force surge around him in what felt like an immense wave of energy. It was soothing, seeming to cover him beginning at the top of his head like a halo of energy, and pulsed around him. He didn't open his eyes, and with the force surge came images of the past day. His being chosen, the look in his classmates eyes when Yoda came to retrieve him from the hall, the small view of Jocasta he had gotten in the hall, every bit of every conversation so far with his new master. Every visions, sight, sound, smell, taste, hit him in a swirling torrent of energy.

Finally, when he reopened his eyes, the darkness outside of the window told him it had been hours since he had begun the process. Where he had only been able to feel his own force energy before, he could now feel a pulse that he recognized as Yoda.

"What was that?" He felt strangely out of breath. "Master." He added as an afterthought.

"Established our training bond, I have." The little master laughed, and lifted himself gently to the floor, choosing to walk with the aid of his stick this time. Dooku stood as well, watching him, following behind him. "Late for the evening meal, we are." And they exited their apartment, disappearing into the hallway.

Any concerns of Dooku's had vanished. He now had one goal in mind for now, looking down at his own hands where he could feel the fore pulsing beneath his skin. He wanted that kind of connection. That acute, strong control over the force that his new master seemed to have.

He wanted that kind of power.


End file.
